


crazy little thing called love

by queenhomeslice



Series: That’s it! I’ve come up with a new romance!: Ignis/Reader Stories [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Drinking, F/M, Gift Giving, Love Confessions, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: This thing called love, I just can't handle itThis thing called love, I must get round to itI ain't readyCrazy little thing called love"Crazy Little Thing Called Love," Queen
Relationships: Ignis Scientia/Reader
Series: That’s it! I’ve come up with a new romance!: Ignis/Reader Stories [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686343
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	crazy little thing called love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

You sigh loudly, groaning to no one in your empty bedroom. Valentine’s day is eight days away, and you’ve scrolled endlessly through Amazon’s suggestions of _50 Gifts for the Guys in Your Life,_ with a healthy extra dose of flipping through Cosmopolitan and Vogue for good measure. The thing is, no one really has a suggestion on what to get a high-class yet frugal man who’s sex on legs and who doesn’t know you want to ride him into the sunset. Ignis cooks for the prince, but it’s not a passion he would’ve ever adopted on his own, and he’s said as much—so a new knife block seems a little thoughtless, even though it’d be _useful._ You’re dying to get something personal for Ignis, this longtime friend that you seem so have fallen so helplessly for. Besides, you know that Noctis would buy Ignis any kitchen appliance he required (with the exception of maybe a vegetable peel, but those are cheap, anyway). 

You’ve clicked through at least a dozen grooming kits, messenger bags, whiskey glasses, hair products, ties, tie clips, cuff links...nothing is jumping out at you. Nothing appropriate enough to present to Ignis with a romantic card and a confession of love. Three years is a long time to pine after one of your closest friends, and you wanna make this _count_. You click over to Etsy, thinking that something handmade would be infinitely better, feeling a time crunch, wondering if you’re going to have to pay for rush shipping. Ah, well. Iggy is worth it. 

In the middle of all this, your phone rings, and because the gods see fit to torture you, specifically, Ignis’ handsome face appears on your phone screen. You swallow hard and swipe to answer. 

“Hey Iggy,” you say, trying to steady your breathing. 

“Good afternoon, _________,” says Ignis softly. “I was wondering if you’d want to accompany me to dinner?” 

“Oh, sure thing! Is everyone coming?” It’s rare to find the five of you apart, when you can help it, in between jobs and royal duties and training. 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just be getting me,” Ignis teases. 

“Oh, that’s awful,” you laugh. “No Prompto blowing bubbles in his milk as a buffer. What are we gonna do? Just sit and look at each other all night? It’ll be weird not to threaten Noctis with a salad for an hour and tease him about ordering the chicken strips _again_.” 

Ignis honest-to-gods _snorts_ and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. “Indeed,” he answers, “but I’m sure we’ll manage.” 

“What kinda dinner we talkin’, Iggy? Kenny Crow’s, or...” 

“Heavens, please spare me the Crow’s Nest,” Ignis sighs, and you can imagine him rubbing his eyes. “I thought we might, ah. Have quiet night out at _Il Mare._ ” 

“That new upscale Altissian place? Oh gosh, Iggy, I’d love to, but I’m strapped for cash right now...” 

“I am offering dinner, and I do not expect you to pay.” 

“Iggy, are you sure—“ 

“Hush,” says Ignis in the same tone of voice he uses to quiet Noct’s bratty outbursts. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty,” he says, softer now. 

“Sounds great, Iggy. And um. Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I value our friendship after all. It's the least I can do.” 

You hang up the phone and groan loudly, again, into your empty bedroom, looking back at the Etsy suggestions of _Gifts for Him._ Why are crushes so complicated? 

_______ 

Valentine’s Day arrives on a Sunday, and you’ve been cleaning your modest apartment for hours in preparation for yet another dinner date with Ignis. Well. _You_ like to think of them as dates, but you know that they’re really just friendly hanging-out sessions. Yeah. Just two friends, hanging out, like you always have been. 

You’re dressed in a mauve pink sweater and black ripped jeans that hug your plush frame just right, with two homemade pizzas baking in the oven, and a fresh red velvet cake on the stove. Iggy’s gifts are in red bags on the coffee table next to discount bergamot and lime candles, and wine is chilling in the fridge. You hope you haven’t gone overboard, but you really, _really_ want to convey how you’ve felt all this time. You hear the knock on the door and attempt to quell the butterflies in your stomach. _Here goes nothing_. 

“The pizza was exquisite,” says Ignis, dabbing his perfect lips with the corner of the paper towel. “I could taste all of your homemade, fresh ingredients.” 

“Hydroponic Roma tomatoes,” you laugh. “They were on sale at the farmer’s market and I knew I just _had_ to make a pizza sauce with them.” 

“Everything is so perfectly crafted, I may never order pizza out ever again,” Ignis laughs. 

“Did you leave room for dessert? I made red velvet cake.” 

“Oh, you spoil me,” says Ignis, taking a liberal sip of wine. 

“Well, it _is_ Valentine’s Day.” You rise and begin to gather the dirty plates. “Let’s move to the couch.” 

Ignis smiles. “If you insist.” 

“Oh, __________,” Ignis breathes, pulling out the pink and white tissue paper from the heavy bag on his lap. “You needn’t have gone through all of this trouble...” 

“Hey, I—I wanted to,” you say, hoping the blush from your cheeks will be read as simply the effects of—is it three glasses of wine, now? You shrug. “I’ll admit that I found you a little hard to shop for, so I’m sorry if...” 

“Nonsense,” says Ignis. “I’m sure everything is...wonderful...” His sentence falls away as he draws out the first gift. “Oh, an organic soy candle?” He lifts the lid to smell it. “Dark chocolate espresso bean,” he identifies, without reading the label. His full lips spread into a wide smile. “Now I shall be hungry all of the time.” 

“Sorry!” you laugh. 

“No, it’s lovely. I cannot wait to light it.” Ignis looks back into the bag and draws out the next gift. “Oh, my word—a wallet?” 

“I...I didn’t know if you needed a new one or not? I thought that if you did, great; and if not, well, you might need a new one _someday,_ so it’s gonna be useful regardless.” 

Ignis turns the black leather bifold over in his hands, flipping it over; his green eyes widen as he gazes at the inside. “You even engraved it.” 

“Yeah!” 

Ignis blinks back up at you with a poker face. “I must admit, I’m a little overcome. You didn't have to get me such wonderful gifts.” 

“But I _wanted_ to,” you say, swallowing nervously. 

Ignis pulls out another gift. “A key fob...again, with my initials. Thank you.” 

“Yeah, Iggy, of course. Do you like everything?” 

“I’m in awe. I cannot believe you’d buy me so many wonderful things.” 

You smile, blushing again. “There’s one more thing in there.” The final gift is one that’s going to look really stupid if Ignis rejects you—you're sending silent prayers up to the Astrals that he actually likes you back. 

Ignis clicks his tongue and dives back into the gift bag, pulling out a purple and black plaid shirt, with that ever-present skull motif on the back. But it’s what you’d safety-pinned to the inside of the shirt that’s the real kicker. 

Ignis is enraptured as he unfolds the shirt and turns it to the back, then to the front again, admiring the detail and softness of it. “A perfect shirt for winter,” he says softly, thumbing over the flannel in his hands. 

“Yeah? I’m glad you think so. I got it custom-made for you. I only hope it fits right. But um. There’s something on the inside...” 

“Oh?” Ignis unfolds the shirt and opens it, button by button, lifting an eyebrow as he stares at the black and purple patchwork heart embroidered on the inside, along with the note that’s been attached to the top of the heart. “___________,” he starts. 

“Just—just read the note.” 

Ignis mechanically unclasps the safety pin and slides the note from it, closing the pin and dropping it into the gift bag. He opens up the note and, to your horror, begins to read out loud. 

_Ignis,_

_This may come as a surprise, but for several years now, I have started to develop deep feelings for you—romantic feelings. I value you as a friend, but I would love for us to be so much more. If you can’t answer right now, I understand; but I couldn’t hide this secret anymore. Will you be my Valentine?_

The silence seems to drag on for eternity as you burn holes in your hands on your lap. Your wine glass is trembling in your hands and you feel like you can barely breathe. 

“___________,” says Ignis quietly. “I had no idea.” 

“Well, I’m good at having a poker face,” you say, laughing. “At least when it comes to you.” You swallow hard, looking up into his gorgeous green eyes. “If you don’t—if you don’t like me back, Iggy, it’s okay. We can still be friends.” 

Ignis says nothing as he places all of the gifts and the note back into the gift bag, placing it on the floor. He then swiftly plucks the wine glass from your trembling fingers, sliding it onto a coaster with ease. He leans forward, cupping the back of your neck in a tender hold—your skin is on fire where he touches you, and it’s almost more than you can take. 

“Iggy,” you breathe, wide-eyed. 

“I feel as though I have failed as a man,” he says, low and sultry. “It is I who should have wooed you today. Darling,” he breathes, and _wow_ , you feel a surge of warmth rush down to your very toes. “I am _besotted_ with you. I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And, as we have observed today, much braver than I could ever hope to be.” 

“I’m kind of freaking out,” you whisper, gulping hard. Gods, his lips are _right_ there. “You, uh. You like me back?” 

“Very, very much. A rather ridiculous amount, if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah? That’s uh. That’s good, right?” 

“I lack the words to express how light my heart feels right now, knowing that my affections are returned.” 

“Please kiss me before I faint or something.” 

Ignis smirks. “Anything for you, my valentine.” 


End file.
